


Birth of a Shadow: Story of Viren

by TemerityClias



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Coming of Age, Friendship, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28288185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemerityClias/pseuds/TemerityClias
Summary: Viren, a dark mage of Katolis, he uses his cunning and dark magic to fuel his quest for power. Learn the story of this cunning dark mage through his own eyes and memories.
Relationships: Harrow/Sarai/Viren/Viren's Ex-Wife (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Katolis Capital, 43 years before the events of the Dragon Prince: A moment of quiet, then a labored cry, the folk around the bed waited with baited breath. They waited on me. Waited on me to emerge, and open my eyes for the first time to see me whilst I saw them. Two large, rough hands lifted me up and the people cried, "It's a boy!" My mother was barely conscious, exhausted in all respects from the strain of her labors and only glanced upon me once before going limp in fatigue. 

That's the way my father told me the story the one time I asked about my mother and birth. He told me never to ask of it again. She was never spoken of and pictures of her were hidden away to be garnered in dust. I never learned her name. Never remembered her face. Only her voice, speaking it's final locution, whispered to the family and doctors gathered around her a word.

That word is my only connection to her. The women who showed through herself that she loved me more than life itself. The gentle, kind women I used to dream that she had been while twisting the word through my mind. I always compared my rough, crown guard father to my dream of the mother I thought had been. Wishing, dreaming, she could return to me and show me the love I never received. Father was always away, leaving me to my thoughts for weeks at a time. When he was there, I was just another one of his soldier's, not a loved one, and certainly not his son. I was not as strong or fast as he wanted so I was left to myself with my only myself for most of my earliest years. I lost a mother's love, and perhaps lost a father's compassion.

I wish I could have heard and remembered on that evening what she whispered. To hear what her final intonation to a vanishing world was with my own ears. That day 43 years ago, I drew first life as my mother drew last. Her final breath before succumbing to her pains was a name. What was to be my name. Viren.

//This is an introduction almost to the pre-show days of Viren hence the seemingly brief passage. The date is guessed to my best ability from the information available in the first three season of The Dragon Prince which are all that are out at the moment. I hope to be well on the way in this account of Viren's early life before the upcoming 4th season releases.//


	2. Childhood Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren and his father have a rather distant relationship. Distant becomes distance.

A few years later, Katolis City:

After the death of my mother, my father moved us from our old townhouse to the officer's housing area just outside the castle's outermost wall facing the rest of Katolis City. We lived in a stout, old, stone building with a hard oak door, and single, plain, glass window that overlooked the road leading through the castle's outer wall. My early years were spent as most babies spend theirs, cared for by their mother's. 

In my case however, I was cared for by a female soldier who had heard of me and took pity. She nursed me through my first few years of life and for that I am forever grateful to her. 

Though, just like my mother, I tragically never learned her name. She was there and gone in the few years my father had needed her to care for me. She left for the final time when I was four years old. After that, I never saw her again. I remembered her for her final words, she was the only person in my childhood who had ever said good bye. A wave and two words. It was all she left. Not even my mother had had the chance to say that to me and that soldier saying those two words floats in my memory to this vey days.

It was after my first four years of life that I actually began to get to know the person that my tall, brown-maned father was. First, at the age seven I learned that he was not to be disturbed or bothered when he came home. I was already a relatively proficient speaker at that age having attended a kingdom funded school in the city and reading whatever books I could obtain. It wasn't the necessarily the height of education but it was enough for a child who only needed words to ask for food or in my thoughts for a time, hope for love.

At age 8, I learned that the paternal love I had always hoped for was unlikely if not unobtainable. My father was always distant from me. Even on his best days, when his career was looking promising and he was in favor with the king I was only afforded perhaps a pat on the head before being ignored for the rest of the evening. 

This was the routine of our stone house that felt much more like a cave. I would stay home. Perhaps walk around the barracks once or twice or read the same old, dusty book in the corner shelf. No matter the day however, I could always be found awaiting Father's return, sitting on the doorstep from the moment the clock struck nine.

I don't know why I waited, there was never any acknowledgement from him. He never seemed to appreciate in any way that I, his son, had dutifully waited, sometimes for hours, at the doorframe, hopefully anticipating his return. 

Then again, now, thinking on it. I don't know why I hoped. I'm not even sure what I was hoping for. A ruffling of my hair? A hug or handshake? For my younger self to expect any of these things was pure and desperate conjecture. The daydreams of a wistful child. To so relentlessly crave my father's love that never came is perhaps the greatest and most unavoidable tragedy of my childhood. 

His military career was everything to him. He had been a general on the Zadian border before retiring from his army role to be chosen as the new Crown Guard of Katolis, a great honor for any man. My father, while dedicated to his role of protecting the royal family, often butted heads with the king over sometimes very minor things. A disagreement over something as simple as whether or not the guards helmets should have straps could escalate and send my father home enraged or despondent. Neither mood necessarily changed my social aspect with him.

The King of Katolis, Harrow's grandfather, was old and stubborn, just like my father. As the king and my father aged, they became more hard headed to each others ideas, certainly not improving the situation for my father or for me. We did live in a house built and owned by the same king that my father argued endlessly against. Father's questionable relationship with the king certainly didn't help when Princess Diana's accident occurred. 

It happened when I was around 9 or so, Father's career took a turn for the worse, a member of the royal family, the king's daughter, Diana, had been severally injured in a tragic accident involving a falling piano from a new musical auditorium. The king held my father personally responsible and my father's reputation and as a result he himself, took a turn for the worst. He began coming home later and later, until eventually I'd start to almost doze off before before he got home. His midnight walks, as they became infamously known as in Katolis, kept him up and about the city sometimes until the break of dawn. 

After a few months of these so-called "Midnight Walks" I still waited at the door however, hoping to catch a glimpse of him coming down the road allowing myself to sleep only when I saw his usually, now haggard figure trudge around the corner before succumbing to sleep. I waited later and later as the months went by, reading whatever books I could obtain by candlelight to learn while I awaited his return. 

He always seemed to come home deeper and deeper into the night until I almost considered not waiting on him any longer. Yet still I waited on, as he became more and more wrapped in helpless rage at his position and despair from his long fall from grace. Each return home, brought news of another failure, another noble who wanted him gone, stripped of his position. 

Then it happened. My final loss of childhood. The moment that marked the time that I considered myself passing into adulthood. My adolescence's final breath. 

It happened the night before my tenth birthday. I was sitting at my usual post on the doorsill when something odd happened. Father didn't return before his usual latest time of around two in the morning.  
It was an anomaly, for sure, I had though, but nothing to worry about. He would be around by the hour I told myself. Two hours later, I put away my book and curled my knees into my chest, worry growing in my chest.

The early milk maid came by on her rounds at five or so in the morning to find me rocking back and forth, a burned out candle in my hand and anxious tears in my eyes. I did not look up at her to say hello as I usually did, there was no time for that, I had to see Father when he returned, had to see his staunch, hardened figure turn onto our lonely sleep. 

I waited for the what I thought was the inevitable to occur, for him to come to the house and walk through the door.

I waited for him to come back, as he always had. 

This was not like all those times because that night, a soldier from the palace walked up the street instead of my father. I didn’t need his letter written and sealed by the king to know what had happened. I didn't need his gruff voice in my ears to understand what had transpired.

At one fifteen that morning, a sentry at the outer city walls had reported seeing a large, haggard man with cut hair just like mine just trod out the city gates and disappear into the darkness.

That forsaken night…

He was gone.


	3. Sonnet 1: Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sonnet portraying the story of Viren's being alone.

Sonnet 1: Alone

Go look back through his eyes, to see him young,

A childhood of loss and of close sorrow.

With nothing but his clever mind and tongue

Cunning that could get him to tomorrow

Deserted, you could see him feeling then,

Abandoned, you could hear his emotions cry

Hopeless, said the voices in his mind, then

Why carry on, if to go on, then why

Left behind by the one who loved him much

Though not by her own desire or will

Made lone by one who did not love him such

By his despair, left while the moon stood still

A single word of a sadder still tone

Now there is no one, now, you are alone.


	4. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren finds opportunity in the form of royal compassion.

A few days later, Katolis City:

I had actually hoped that Father would come back after he left the city gates. It was an far fetched hope admittedly, even for my 10 year old self. I gave up hope after two days. I hadn't known it at the time but two days was the traditional mourning period for a Katolis soldier who had died. I wasn't been able to appreciate the irony until many years later. 

After those two days, the King of Katolis, King Armin, Harrow's grandfather, invited me to the castle to provide his condolences for my paternal loss. I received the messenger crow in the middle of the day while sitting subdued against the front door of my house facing the street. 

It was perhaps the most uplifting thing that had happened in years even before I had opened the scroll tied to the crow's leg. It was raw, hopeful curiosity that willed me to rise from my dreariness then. The hope I felt from just seeing that someone had cared enough to just send me a letter was all I needed to summon the energy to rise and continue forward. 

A castle guard arrived only a few minutes later and began my escort up to the castle's outer gates. I had never visited the castle before despite it being my father's daily occupation. Katolis Castle was and still is the most impressive structure in all of the Pentarchy. It took my breath away the first time I saw it. Its high towers and stalwart battlements stole my eyes from the moment we turned the bend on the road towards the castle.

Walking through those gates that day gave me a sense of opportunity, this was where I could rise from my seemingly lowly stature to great heights among men. Its towering palisades and terraces paralleled my own high hopes for the future. Just from walking through that gate, I felt a jolt of anticipation coming up from my legs, anticipation not just for that day but for the years to come. My escort took notice of my obvious awe as we reached the gate.

"It sure is impressive isn't it, kid?" He asked me. I could only nod in silent reply. The gate was lifted up to let us in and I stepped into the castle walls for the first time in my life.

Proud, armored guards lined entryways that I walked through on my way to the keep and I was almost cowed by their obvious strength. Their armor shone like moonlight on water in the afternoon glare of the sun. They were the finest force in perhaps all of the Pentarchy even before Queen Sarai and General Amaya brought them to even greater standards years later. 

We reached the main keep and began the ascent to the throne room. We passed by painting after painting of former kings of Katolis on the red carpets of the castle halls until we reached the doors of the throne room. Three men stood at the door, two of them were regular castle guards, but the third man was dressed in the armor of the captain of the crown guard. I had seen my father wearing it enough times to recognize it. Replaced already, I had thought, almost scoffing out loud. Not hearing my thoughts, the man in my father's armor reached out to shake my hand.

"Tred Argen, Wife of Theta Argen and father of Gren Argen, pleased to meet you." I took his hand warmly as I could and looked into his eyes as kindly as I could. His handshake was coarse and contrasted with his gentle, kind eyes and smile. He returned his hands to his side and continued on his frivolities.

"I'm the new captain of the crown guard, since the last guy…" He shrugged apologetically, "Just left for whatever reason." He looked at me and smiled again at me. He was unabashedly friendly for a soldier I thought. Much like his son in years later.

"Crazy right?" He rubbed the back of his head with his hand and then tried to put his hand on my shoulder. I had had enough of this man's chattering and caught his wrist in my hand before lifting it back to his side. 

"That 'last guy'." I said slowly, slowly letting emphasis drip into my words while looking straight into his eyes, "Was my father." His face slowly dawned into realization and all five people standing there stood silent for a few seconds before he coughed into his fist and began again.

"Anyway, I will let you in to see King Armin and his court now, as you are expected." He gestured for the other two guards to open the doors and I felt a sudden unexpected rush of triumph. I had left a grown soldier in stunned silence with nothing but a raise of my hand and words. It was that moment walking into the king's court that I realized how I could rise. 

I stepped through the doorframe to see King Armin sitting at his throne with his advisors forming a semicircle on each side of him. Armin sat leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and intertwined fingers supporting his crowned head. 

"Come forward, Viren, son of Katolis." I almost grimaced, 'son of Katolis' was sometimes a really nice way of calling someone an orphan. Regardless of what he meant, I walked up just a few feet away from him and waited for him to speak. He breathed in slowly before speaking again.

"You live alone now, child?" His green eyes gazed into mine, gentle as a dove. I swallowed.

"Yes, sire."

He pondered for a moment before beckoning one of his advisors over, Allant was his name and whispering in his ear. I hadn't managed to pick up any of their conversation but some whispers were sharper than the others. After a few minutes of whispers, in which it seemed that there was a disagreement, Allant stepped back, nodded to the king and returned to his position at the king's right hand. King Armin returned his gaze a moment later, a decision in his eyes. 

In an official voice he said, "Viren," he paused, unsure of something "What is your family name?" I swallowed again.

"My father didn't deem it necessary to mention it to me, sir." He nodded his head then continued.

"Very well, Viren, I have decided to give you lodging and a job within the castle walls in whatever craft you seemed best for."

I was honored by his kindness, he would've been within his right to assign me to an orphanage or attempt to find fosters but he chose to bring the son of a deserter into his house, his castle. His compassion has always felt humbling.

Perhaps the king saw something in me that day. Something I had only began to see in myself. Cunning and the will to make a better tomorrow for humanity. I nodded my head, almost teary eyes at his kindness.

"Thank you, sire," I said, "You are as kind and good as all the land says you are, my king." I kneeled, and only looked up when he put his hand on my shoulder. He smiled down at me.

"Rise, my boy," he said lifting me up by my hands his height, "For tomorrow we will see what you might be meant for in this world. Look on tomorrow with hope, oh you child of Katolis."

The way he said it that time, it was then that I knew, I was no orphan, I was a child of Katolis.


	5. Birth of a Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren begins his new life at the castle, meeting new teachers and making a certain friend along the way. (Yes it's who you think it is)

The next day, Katolis Castle, Servant Quarters:

I awoke the next day on a cotton cover bed in the servants quarters. My mind beginning to race before my eyes had even opened. The servants quarters was the best place the king could find in short notice as the ambassador bedrooms were being refurbished. Besides, sleeping in a small, cotton bed was preferable to inhaling wet paint all night. To me then, it didn't matter where I was given board, I could've slept soundly on the floor if it meant staying in the castle.

The day at Katolis Castle begins at 6:00 in the morning when the night guard shift switches with the day shift but by then I had been awake for an hour. I was almost too excited to fall asleep at all the previous night. My mind had been spinning with too many possibilities. 

My morning ponderings were interrupted by a gruff looking man with a scraggly beard and metal workers leather apron who had walked up to my bedside. He was the blacksmith and the first person I would attempt to learn a craft from that day. 

He grunted by my bed, "Pick yerself up, boyo. I'm goona need yer help light-een the fourge." He eyed my somewhat scrawny frame. He looked at the roof thoughtfully, then smiled crookedly at me, "Mebee I'll use ye as tinder." 

He might as well have. By the time my work with him was over, I was singed all over by the heat. I had assisted in reforging some crown guard broadswords although I use 'assisted' very loosely in this case. It seemed to be rather outside of my talents to stick a metal stick into fire and hit it with a hammer. Perhaps because it's simply not what I was made to do but I digress. 

The blacksmith left me with some mildly encouraging parting words, "Ye have the vision and will in yer eyes to bend the metal, but not the passion," he poked at the embers of his forge, "Not the fire of a blacksmith." I nodded, I took no offense, he was correct after all, I have never had any interest in blacksmithing even to this day. I thanked him for his time and moved on to the next tutorial. 

King Armin had given me an mental list of the people I was to visit in order to find a craft that I could sustain myself on, the blacksmith was my first. Next, came the baker where I performed similarly to the blacksmith. I could bake if I had to, I suppose but it certainly wasn't my area of interest. I also received an almost identical comment from him as I had from the blacksmith. 

"You could bake any of these things in this book," he said, lifting up his recipe book, "But this is not what excites you." He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled, "In fact, I don't know if I've ever seen someone less excited to be in a kitchen that you were." Once again, I nodded, I felt nothing when I baked, the only thing that led me to do it was perhaps knowing the people it would feed.

I was feeling mildly perturbed after the second attempt. For certain there was still one to go, but I felt my mind was my forte, my will was my strength. Though I also liked helping people, I liked protecting people, and next was the guard morning training regimen. It seemed promising, after all I did come from a family line that until recently had held great esteem among the fighting men of Katolis.

I walked into one of the side palace courtyards where the regimen would be taking place a few minutes early and watched the sun continue its tireless march. It moves forward always, I thought, alone though it may be, it lights all of the world. 

"Hello, Viren, is it? My grandfather had told me about you." I turned to see a young Harrow, donned in his prince's armor, his hair already reaching his shoulders at 11. I smiled at him and got up to shake his hand.

I extended my hand to him and we shook hands, his grip was strong, even as a child.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the prince of Katolis. Your grandfather you said? I though he was your father." He exhaled out through his nose and looked to the side a little sadly. 

"My parents were caught in a lava fluctuation near the Breach. They managed to get the group with them to safety, but my parents… weren't so lucky." I looked sideways, sorry to have brought it up. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," I paused for a moment, "I lost my mother when I was a baby." He smiled sadly, a knowing smile. 

"Loss is hard especially when you are still young." He took a deep breath then continued.

"So, how has your first day at the castle been treating you, Viren?" I was caught off guard by his kindness, usually someone of his stature wouldn't waste more than a few words on someone of my low social standing. Even at that age, he was full of the wisdom of compassion.

"It's being going…" I paused, thinking over my experiences before answering. 

I continued, "It's being going well, I haven't quite found a fit yet though I remain optimistic." I tried to mirror his bright eyes and smile when I said this. I found myself taking a liking to him and his kindness, it was very… magnetic, I suppose. 

He chuckled, "I see, my grandfather told me about you last night. He seemed rather pleased with himself for letting you live here it seems." He put his hand on my should as if I were already a long-time friend. "I myself and rather glad to see you here as well, Viren, and I wish you well." 

Then the castle garrison captain called us to attention and we were each given a wooden sword and a partner. I was partnered with another boy with a similar build to mine, though his skin tone was darker and his hair was in a knot behind his back. We stood opposite to one another and the order was given to raise swords. 

"Viren." I said suddenly, his eyes were flicking from my eyes to the floor. 

He didn’t respond. To him I suppose, it had seemed to come out of nowhere. I laughed nervously.

"My name, it’s Viren." I smiled down at him in his two hand crouch. He smiled back shifting his weight to his left leg. He only nodded and smiled in reply and began to pace to my left slowly like a wildcat. I was watching him carefully, others had already begun to spar. 

"This is the first time I've held a sword." I confessed to him, he took his eyes off me for a second. He stood up relaxed and looked at the sword in his hand, almost amused.

"Swords are too restricting." I was surprised to hear him talk and that's when he struck. He lunged suddenly and I jumped back and blocked his sword. I almost hadn't seen him move. 

"This clearly isn't your first time." I liked talking I realized, made me feel more in control. He continued launching thrust after thrust of his sword some of which nearly connected. He remained silent. 

He talked again as he threw a lightning fast slash at my right leg which I jumped over, "I'd prefer a flail, it gives me freedom." I nodded, I wasn't quite sure what a flail was. We continued our pattern of him striking and me dodging until I attempted to launch an attack of my own.

I speared for his stomach and he not only blocked it, but managed to twist his sword around mine and disarm me. Then he smiled, nodded his head at me, and walked away. Most of the other sparring matches had already been completed, I didn't recognize any of the remaining trainees so I walked over to the side of the courtyard to where Harrow sat, he wasn't even sweating. I waved at him as I approached.

"How was your time meeting Corvus, Viren?" Asked Harrow, almost sly, like he was sharing a joke. I chuckled and wiped the sweat from my eyes.

"So that was his name, he didn’t seem keen to tell me." Harrow smiled and looked into the distance, "Yeah, that’s Corvus, doesn't talk when he doesn't have to." He laughed through his nose, "Though in some cases, the silence is preferable." I nodded in agreement, a silent, wise man was always better than a babbling fool. 

We sat in silence for a little while and looked up at the midday sky. Harrow squinted his eyes against the sun then turned to me. 

"Do you think this is what you'll be doing for now?" I stopped looking at the sky to think about it. I hadn't even considered that the military could be an option for me. I had always considered it like another one my father's things, not to be touched by me. Still, while the idea of the military appealed to me somewhat, the feeling of the sword in my hand was missing something. The sword was a sword, there was no deeper meaning to it, no secrets to find, just metal.

I breathed in, "Given the choice between the military and the other jobs, I'd choose the military, no question about that…" I trailed off not knowing how to say it. Harrow leaned towards me.

"But?" He asked. I breathed in again.

"This still doesn't feel right to me." I looked up at Harrow, "I at least felt something when I used the sword, not like the other two positions." I looked down at my steepled hands. 

"You know that… that…" I struggled for the right word, "That thing that invigorates you when you do it. The thing you were meant to do. Do you understand what I mean?" 

Harrow smiled softly, "I think I do, mine is service. A good one for a future king. Fighting somewhat does it for me but only out of service. The smiles on people's faces when they're handed out the castle food reserves." He stopped to smile wistfully, a glimmer of tears in his eyes. "That's what keeps me waking up each morning wanting more." He shook his head suddenly, wiping his eyes.

He coughed, "My apologies, I got a little carried away." I nodded, understanding, "It’s alright, I understand you. I feel that way when I speak with wit. When words become spears and even then something is missing. It feels like trying to fit a hole with a shape that you don't know and I know I need to find that piece." 

That was the most I'd ever opened up to anyone, I realized then. The first time I was ever truly vulnerable to someone. I felt only relief. After that as a slight rain began to come down, Harrow and I said our goodbyes. King Armin had summoned me to his throne again after my three possibilities to hear my decision. It was humbling once again to know how much he cared for a relative stranger such as me. 

My ponderings were interrupted by the rain picking up and I picked up my pace, hoping to get inside before I became soaked to the bone. I saw Harrow down below, running for the nearest door he could find. 

Watching him, I took my eyes off where I was going, the rain had made the stones slick and hard to grip. I slipped on a step on my way down and my momentum carried me to the edge of the stone railing that was not tall enough to stop me.

I was in panic. I couldn't just fall could I? My fingers found purchase in one of the stone and I hung from the one stone for dear life. I cried out and Harrow below heard me. I could barely hear his shouts above the howling wind and the rain pushed my fingers to the edge. There was no time for anyone to come to help. The guards were already inside from the rain. Once again, I felt alone. 

Raindrops stung my eyes and skin as my fingers began slipping. My fear grew until it became raw terror. I was going to die wasn't I? My fingers fell away and I felt weightless. My terror suddenly gave way to sad reflection. If I died here, then died my story. I could certainly not become what I was meant to be if I was dead. If I was dashed upon the stones below, who would remember me? The fool who slipped in the rain and died? 

Then my mind stopped and I just fell, I couldn't hear Harrow or others shouting below. I only heard the wind whistling by as the ground grew closer and closer. I closed my eyes just before I hit the ground. The castle walls echoed the sickening thump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,
> 
> Planning to upload every Friday-Saturday roughly. Thanks for the reads.


	6. Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren awakes again to discover a friend and a future.

"Get. Out."

"Hello, Viren, is it?"

"New captain…"

"What is you family name?"

"Viren, save me my dear!"

The voices pounded within in skull, reflecting off each other, faces of the people who were speaking floated within sight of my mind's eye. My father, Harrow, Captain Argen, King Armin, and the last voice, feminine and kind, somehow I knew, was my mother. 

How could it not be, My mind sluggishly reasoned. But what did she need to be saved from? What could I save her from? She was already on the other side of death, far beyond anyone's reach. The voices slowly faded as I grew nearer to true consciousness. I only was aware of what was happening in my mind. My thoughts jumped to a more current question.

Am I dead? I asked myself, trying to feel my limbs. I felt nothing for a moment but then I felt my finger twitch ever so slightly. I was alive! My story could go on! I had yet to draw my last breath! I was then aware of a gasp and someone else who's voice I didn't recognize said, "So he lives."

I tried opening my eyes slowly to catch a foggy glimpse of a man with wispy, white hair before his charred fingers gently pushed my eyelids back down. Then I heard him chuckle. 

"This boy is a walking miracle to be alive right now, King Armin." He let out a hysterical wheeze. "I must say, out of all my works, I believe this boy's still beating heart to be my finest, aye your majesty?" 

I heard King Armin, chuckle, perhaps half-amused at this clearly batty man and half still concerned for me. In my brief glimpse, I had noticed we were perhaps in one of the towers opposite to the main keep. I tried to lift my head but once again, the strange man pushed me back down. His tone turned serious when he addressed me.

"My miracle will mean nothing if you keep rustling, boy. I have you under some rather shall we say…" I could almost picture him searching for the right word. He continued. 

"Some rather… experimental magicks you see." Then he chuckled, "Experimental even for dark magic. Give yourself time to rest lad. I'll have you on your feet in no time." He chuckled madly again, "Well not no no time but you know." I heard his footsteps leave the room as he whistled a whimsical tune of his own concoction.

I struggled in a breath, wondering why. Why had King Armin saved me? Why consume his High Mage's time on someone like me? I was no one. I was nothing. Why waste breath on me? I struggled out another question. These thoughts bounced back and forth in my mind each giving me a cold, hopeless feeling within myself.

King Armin seemed to have heard my thoughts. "You must think I gave you opportunity to live and work in the castle and had you brought to the High Mage himself just because I wanted to." He laughed softly through his nose. He sighed slowly before continuing.

"Well, I must admit I had more reasons than just a whim to help you." I was nervous for a moment before he continued. 

"You've met my grandson, Harrow. I saw you two talking and after he carried you here, Harrow told me all about his day with you. How you two talked. That achieved my other hope when I had let you live in the castle, to give Harrow a friend. As for bringing you to High Mage," He snorted out through his nose, "I certainly couldn't let Harrow's only true friend die, especially not on the day you met one another." 

He leaned his head on his forehead and breathed out slowly, "I must sound crazy to you. My plan for giving you board here was almost entirely based on the vague hope that you would not only meet Harrow, but befriend him." He let out a mirthless laugh.

"What are the odds that my daydream actually came true? What are the odds that you would see Harrow differently?" We sat in silence for a few moments. Then he continued on.

"There are many other boys who have come through the castle, of all kinds but they have all seen him as their prince, you have been the only one to see him as your friend." 

Friends. That's what Harrow and I were, I realized. I almost laughed aloud before remembering that I couldn't. That's when Harrow burst through the door before ironically attempting to shut it quietly. 

"How's he doing, Grandfather?" I felt a warm feeling in my chest when he walked in. I suppose it's how one feels when a friend arrives. Harrow then asked me how I was feeling. I, of course, was still not physically able to respond so King Armin answered for me. 

"Viren is quite alright as of now. High Mage Candor has done a miraculous job reviving your friend here. Still, he won't be able to move for a few days."

Harrow nodded, "I've seen people fall much shorter than that and still not make it. Candor's magic is really something, isn't it?" I couldn't agree more, I had though. The fact that I was alive more than sold me for the use of dark magic. I could feel the spell he had put over me coursing though my body. I could feel my bones knitting back together. As a matter of fact, as Harrow walked in, I my vertebrae were clicking themselves back into place in a click-clack pattern only I could seem to hear. 

Something about the feeling of the spell, the magic coursing inside me, felt so… right. I felt certain in that moment. I was going to be a mage. At the moment however, my lungs were still not entirely in one piece and so I couldn't relay my revelation to Harrow or the king but my hope remained. I had a future.

Harrow already knew I had been looking for something that could light my fire. He would understand my need to know magic. I felt certain that by the end of the week. I would be the High Mage's apprentice. I would propose the idea to King Armin as soon as I could speak again.

High Mage Candor, in my quick glimpse of him, had seemed older. I was certain that he would need an apprentice to help him. My father had never though highly of the mage or his practices but Candor was my ticket to what I was meant to be. What I would become. 

I heard the chair King Armin had been sitting on scrape against the floor as he stood up. 

"Well, Viren," he said, "The sun is setting and I have matters to attend to, I will see you when you have recovered then." He turned to leave as my voice returned to me. I managed out a word. 

"Wait." He turned and waited. I gave my best smile, barely able to see him through hazy eyes. 

"Thank you." I could see him smile before turning back to the door and leaving me alone with Harrow in the darkening room. I heard Harrow breathing next to me softly as he too got up to leave. Before he left he leaned down by my bedside.

"Viren," He said softly, "Thank you for being my friend." I smiled as well as I was able. 

"And thank you." I breathed out, "For being mine." With that, he left, promising to be back in the morning. He would be there. Of that I had no doubt. 

Today, I realized I had gained two things. A friend in Harrow, and a future in magic. And oh how bright that future looked. I had hope again. With that thought, I fell asleep, the dusk sun casting its final rays across the grand, castle walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reads once again. As a funny bit of trivia, this chapter is exactly one word longer than last chapter. Go figure. Thank you again for reading!


	7. Sonnet 2: Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sonnet portraying the story of the beginning of Harrow's and Viren's friendship.

Sonnet 2: Friendship

How cold does the bite of loneliness sting?

How silent is its bite, how deep its wound?

A frosty wind that makes you pray for spring,

How can you fight the chill of the loner?

But a smile from a friend warms the chilled heart

A smile warmer than any summer day

A friendship is greater than works of art

A friendship saves the soul from its decay

Can you compare your friendship to great wealth?

Can you start to count it as you do coins?

Is it as precious as life or as health?

How can you measure all of friendships joys?

Count it in the years you spend as brothers

Measure in the tears you shed for one other


	8. A Mage's Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren discovers his passion and takes the first steps to his future.

The next day:

I awoke the next morning with a slight pain in my head but otherwise feeling far better than last night. I still was unable to move much as some of my bones were still realigning. I could hear them clacking back together still. It was a sickening noise, but after listening to it in silence for hours on end, it faded from my attention. 

"A curious position to find myself in," I muttered to myself. I had awoken just as the sun was rising and was surprised to find Harrow by my bedside already. My throat and lungs healed just enough for some semblance of speech, I greeted him for the morning.

"Good morning, Prince Harrow," I gave my best attempt at formality in my fragile state. My words came out raw and course. He chuckled kindly at my attempted amenity.

"Please, Viren," he got up from his chair, "Just call me Harrow, today is no different from yesterday." I turned my head and nodded both to acknowledge what he had said as well as to check if my neck vertebrae had finished reconnecting themselves. 

It was nice having him here again, warming to know he had come as promised. After we finished greetings, Harrow seemed to want to ask a question that had to be on his mind and was evident on his face. Sensing his curiosity, I asked him about it. He hesitated before he asked.

"Grandfather said that you never learned your family name, is that true?" I paused for a moment before nodding. In all honesty, I'd never been ashamed of not knowing it. I had hardly though about it for most of my childhood. 

"My father was sparing with his words to me." I explained, I was strong enough to speak clearly now, though my jaw still felt sore. 

"The family name never came up in any of our conversations, the few that we had." I laughed somewhat bitterly, not entirely enjoying the conversation though there was a feeling of relief that he had brought it up. It had been buzzing in the back of my mind ever since King Armin had mentioned it. 

Harrow nodded, "I see, has not knowing ever bothered you?" I thought about it for a moment.

"Not quite, I never had to use it while under my father and I had no real reason to be interested in it until he left." I trailed off, the pain of my last blood relative leaving me was still fresh in my chest. Harrow paused and leaned in to check on me. 

"Are you still feeling alone?" I gave him what I thought was my best brave smile.

"Hardly, I have a friend in you now." He smiled warmly, comforted by my words. I myself felt better saying it. It chased away the darkness of being alone, warmed me as the hearth does. Harrow's empathy was one of his enduring characteristics, showing through even the budding years of our friendship. 

We sat in silence for a few moments. I thought on what the family name meant anymore. My father had been the only carrier of our family name in Katolis and now that he was gone, it was left to me. 

Thinking through it, I questioned whether the family name would in actuality do me any good. Its most recent head had just abandoned his position at one of the most prominent, military posts in Katolis. Yet I still wanted to know, if not to help me advance then perhaps simply to know. I looked up at Harrow.

"Actually," he looked up at me as I spoke, "While not knowing the name has never explicitly bothered me, I would like to learn what it was though in my…" I attempted to shift slightly in bed as Harrow watched.

I grimaced with the effort of just wiggling, "Current condition," I continued, "I'm hardly in any shape to travel down to the castle records or officers barracks to find out what the name is." Harrow rested his chin on his knuckles for a moment, thinking, just like his grandfather. Then he looked up at me, eyes bright with kindness. 

"Well," he said slowly, "I am free for today and…" He smiled at me from his chair, "I do feel like helping my friend." I raised my eyebrows up at him.

"The future king of Katolis is going to search through some dusty records to find my family name?" I breathed out through my nose, amused. 

"Consider me flattered." Harrow got up from his chair, smiling at my sarcasm.

"Consider it," He replied thoughtfully, "A duty to a citizen." He smiled down at me again.

"A duty to a friend." I nodded and smiled back at him. 

"Harrow," he turned back to me just as he was opening the door, "Thank you." He nodded kindly and left the room without another word. I realized as he left that I hadn't told him about my revelation about magic. I had been meaning to be able to share it with at least Harrow. I wanted to become High Mage Candor's apprentice as soon as I was able. 

I sat in silence for hours contemplating these things, waiting for Harrow to return. The door opened and I leaned up in bed, surprised that I could sit up already. I had been expecting Harrow but instead I was greeted by the older, whispy-haired face of High Mage Candor. Oddly enough, he seemed somewhat surprised to see me there despite being there when I had arrived.

His mouth opened and closed while his eyes moved up and down my body. Then he made a low, contemplative noise before stroking his hair and taking a seat in the chair Harrow had been sitting in all without saying a word.

Then he spoke, "Hello again, boy. You're recovering well." He looked very pleased with himself.

"I'm very proud." I started to say that I hadn't done anything but he cut me off.

"Very proud of myself," he clarified with a grin that bordered on madness. 

It seemed my future mentor was perhaps a few stones short of a castle. Nevertheless, my determination to become his apprentice still remained, after all, opportunity took many forms, in this case it was madness. Oblivious to my thoughts, Candor continued.

"The magicks used to save you from your unfortunate swim in the pavement were of my own personal design. The…" He trailed off looking for the right word, his voice still buzzing. 

He started again, "The fatality you obtained from your deep dive into stone was well… fatal, obviously, so your life required another's." I was morbidly curious, the idea that I had actually been dead only to return had made the allure of magic all the sweeter to me. 

He breathed in and out rapidly, remembering how he had brought me back. He seemed to find pleasure in remembering the process as he smiled eerily while in recollection.

"Your soul, and thus life, had left your body by the time you were brought to me. You were passing on the doorsill of death and the only thing that can pull a soul back is of course another soul." I nodded, it might not seem intuitive to most but I accepted and understood what he had said in an instant. There was of course the next obvious question which I asked.

"Where did the other soul come from?" He smiled madly, still reveling in his revelations. Then he leaned in to my ear, and whispered through rotting teeth.

"Later, later, all things are known in time." Somehow, this was worse than if he had just told me. Then suddenly he turned to a table, full of tomes I realized and began to scribble.

I looked around the room, taking it in for the first time. This was his study, various books sat haphazardly on tilted shelves and various eyes and liquids hung from the ceiling. I felt at home. Candor began muttering to himself in different voices as I lay back down.

"The boy had it does he"

"I would say that he does, you only need look at his eyes."

"Born to wield the magic of the dark."

"We'll discuss that later." 

"Right."

He turned back to me, his face frozen in a peculiar smile before his face loosened and he just watched me in the bed. We sat there quietly, perhaps waiting for the other to say something. Remembering my question, I broke the silence. 

"High Mage Candor?" He continued watching me, "Yes?" Only his lips moved, he was studying me, I was certain.

"Have you an apprentice of your own?" I asked. He continued watching me but still responded.

"I have not, though I've noticed that you seem to have the spark necessary for dark magic. Do you wish to become a mage?" 

"I do, High Mage. It's what I was born to do. I can feel it." He smiled, though this one lacked the insanity of his previous smiles, this one was… understanding. His madness seemed to noticeably fade, falling off as a cloak falls of the shoulders.

"As you feel it, so do I. I will take you as my apprentice with the blessing of the king and of course once you are able to walk again we shall begin." Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Harrow entered with a scroll. 

"Greetings, High Mage Candor," said Harrow as he came in, "How is Viren doing?" I was able to answer this as well as before my fall, giving Harrow a pleasant surprise.

"I'm doing much better, thank you, Harrow," I replied. He raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"You've healed a lot since this morning." I nodded, giving him a small smile. 

Candor coughed into his fist, "Viren is actually more inclined to magic overall, it might explain his recovery being quicker than anticipated." Harrow looked a little surprised though I don't blame him as even I had never considered mageship. Politics and statesmanship had seemed to be the closest to my passion that could be managed. 

"It's true," I said, "Being High Mage Candor's apprentice is what I truly feel is meant for me. I am meant to practice magic, to be a mage."

Harrow nodded, "I'm glad you found what you want to do but now that I'm here, I found your family name." I stopped for a moment. I had forgotten about it in my eagerness about dark magic. 

In the corner of the room at the hearth, Candor tossed a pouch onto the logs with a few words that I didn't recognize and it immediately became a blaze. His eyes had a faint purple tinge as he turned back to us smiling maniacally again.

"Besides Viren, that's my latest miracle, instant fire in a pouch. It's a result of some of my more recent exploits." Harrow and I both nodded impressed by the trick. Candor headed for the door after grabbing a telescope.

"I will see you both later barring disaster," he said to us, "I'm off to talk to the stars." I waited until he left to ask Harrow a question. 

"Did he mean…?" I trailed off, unsure of how crazy Candor was. 

"No, he meant talk." Harrow grimaced and shrugged, "He's insane but he's brilliant. Probably the best mage in the Pentarchy, crazy though he may be." I nodded, his madness didn't worry me nearly as much as perhaps it should have. I just wanted… needed to learn dark magic.

Harrow coughed and pulled out the scroll and began again.

"Anyway, I found the scroll with your family name. It's from your father's records. I haven't opened it yet though." He smiled at me.

"I'd figured you'd like to be the first to see it." I nodded, thankful and began reaching for the scroll when High Mage Candor popped his head in the door.

"Prince Harrow," he said, "I would like to ask you to leave Viren to rest for the night." Candor winked at me, somehow not as mad as he had seemingly been moments ago.

"I believe Viren has an important day tomorrow." Harrow nodded and left the scroll by my bedside.

"You can open it if you'd like." Harrow said as he headed for the door. 

I smiled, unsure, "Thank you, Harrow." I paused for a moment, rolling the scroll in my hands.

Harrow and Candor bid me goodnight and I sat in the flickering fire of the hearth contemplating the closed scroll. Not tonight, I told myself. Not now, my mind resolved. I set the scroll gently on a table near the loft where I had been laying and drifted into sleep, not to awake until tomorrow.

-:-:-

The next morning, I was summoned to King Armin's throne room. My body had completed its healing overnight so I was able to walk there on my own. When I arrived at the throne room, High Mage Candor was standing to the right of the king. 

Candor was dressed in a simple brown cloak and with a pendant around his neck and pouches hanging from a belt around his waist. He did not seem to care for or have need of the pomp and circumstance of most of the castle officials. I could understand that in a way I suppose.

From his throne, King Armin beckoned for me to come forward, "High Mage Candor has told me you have hopes of becoming his apprentice. Is this true?" I kneeled when I reached the throne.

"Yes, your majesty, I would like to become his apprentice and learn to be a mage with your blessing." King Armin sniffed out through his nose, sounding amused. I noticed the he had a seemingly knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"I though I'd seen that same glimmer in your eyes that I always see in High Mage Candor's." He smiled at me, bidding me to rise, "It seems I was right." He breathed out slowly as he stood up and spoke. Candor indicated for me to kneel and I did as King Armin began the initiation.

"Do you, Viren, promise to preserve and protect Katolis from threats foreign and domestic so long as you draw breath?" Just as my father had, I would protect and defend this kingdom

I nodded, "I do, sire."

"And do you swear to serve the people, with dignity and respect?" Before coming to the castle, I suppose the people had been all I had left.

I nodded again, "I do, your majesty."

"Very well," He looked up towards the crest on the far door before finishing, "Then, with the power of the Katolis crown I appoint you, Viren, as the apprentice to High Mage Candor." I took a breath in. Though it had only been a few days since father had left, it felt like it had been years. I was to be a mage.

A personal realization had become reality in barely days. Few dreams became true in such a short time. I had not expected to be the lucky child who would have such good fortune fall upon me yet here I was nonetheless. I was standing in the presence of a king whom I would serve and a high mage who would teach me. Opportunity, it seemed, had fallen from the sky.

"Thank you, sire." I had risen but I kneeled again. Candor moved towards me and lifted me up. I looked up into his firm, now kind eyes as he clasped his hands on my shoulders. 

"Welcome to mageship, Viren." I only nodded and smiled in response. My future had truly begun.


	9. Compassion and Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren spends his first day with High Mage Candor as his apprentice.

It seemed to me a strange thing, mystifying, that a boy like me could go from technically being an orphan to still being an orphan but an apprentice to a High Mage.

Had I been asked to imagine how I might become apprentice to High Mage Candor just a week ago I likely would've likely envisioned a far different path than the one I was currently on. I probably would've gone with my father to the castle instead of a guard perhaps or been invited to one of his dress ceremonies and met Harrow or Candor there. I left my thoughts as Candor and I bowed and turned for the door.

High Mage Candor and I had just been dismissed by King Armin when Harrow had entered the throne room. He had been summoned by King Armin for something or another but Candor and I stopped and greeted him before continuing for the door. The doors were opened and then closed behind us as Harrow reached where King Armin was beckoning to him.

But something made me halt and turn back to the door before we began walking down the corridor. It was the tone of King Armin's voice to Harrow that made me pause and listen. It was soft, and comforting in my ears though I could only make out a sentence from outside the room.

"I'm proud of you, Harrow." Those were the only words I could hear from their conversation but it wasn't the words that they spoke that made me stop and listen through the throne room doors after they were closed after Candor and I. 

It was King Armin's timbre as he spoke to Harrow. It made me feel wistful, wishing that my own father would've talked to me like that. Just once. Hearing King Armin speak this way, even if it was directed to another was almost hypnotic to my ears. Just to stop and listen to the sound of comfort and kindness. 

I turned from the door a few moments later to remember High Mage Candor still standing there. He had stood there waiting the whole time, just watching me, I realized. He gave me a small nod with a gentle smile and kind look in his eyes before gesturing to the left towards his study and so we went.

"His majesty is certainly gentle in his words for a king wouldn't you say, apprentice?" I was walking a pace behind him to show respect and shook my head yes.

"He is truly a good-hearted king, sir." I hesitated before I continued speaking, "I apologize sir for holding you up at the door. I hadn't meant to cause you delay, High Mage." He chuckled at this.

"You're rather well-spoken for one so young, it's rare to find one so eloquent especially at your age you know."

I gave a slight nod behind him, "Thank you, sir." Neither of us talked for the next few paces until he breathed in and asked a question.

"Why did you stop to listen, Viren?" I missed a step as I processed his question.

"Sir?" I asked, my eyebrows raised in question. He gestured for me to walk beside him with his hand and elaborate on his question.

"Why did you stop to listen to King Armin back at the door is perhaps a better way to put it." He looked at me next to him, waiting for a response. I grasped for words as I thought about his question. Two patrols of guards passed us by the time I had composed a proper reply.

"I suppose it's because it's what I thought a father should sound like, sir. Though I'm not quite sure to be honest." I was sure, in fact, I just hadn't wanted to be so open with the High Mage that he might pry further. I looked forward as we continued walking down the hall and he went on.

"I see, just curious to know. I won't pry." He too kept faced forward, only occasionally turning to look at me before turning back. A few more paces passed before he struck up conversation again.

"Viren, what would you like to be called? Just Viren, or something else?" Once again he awaited my response. I had never thought of any other name that I might be called by so I responded as such.

"I would prefer to be called Viren, sir." 

"Very well, Viren." He put emphasis on my name that time wiggling his eyebrows, attempting to be playful I would guess. 

How had this man come out of the cackling madman whom had brought me back from death's doorsill? This man was kind and tender, his eyes soft when he spoke to me now. Where was the mage who had used a soul, which I still was unaware of its origins, to bring me back and had recollected it in maniacal glee gone? His constant was inconsistency.

"Now," His voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"I've noticed that you have almost only called me sir since I have met you and I must admit that I prefer you call me by something else that makes me feel less old." I tilted my head, expecting him to ask me to call him by his full title.

"I would like it if you just called me Candor." I lifted my head back up, surprised, but respondent.

"Yes, Candor." It sounded foreign on my tongue, the name was almost unwilling to leave my mouth as I said it. With that he thanked me silently with a nod and we continued the rest of the way to his study in silence.

The rest of my first day as the apprentice to Candor was surprisingly simple to my surprise. I had expected perhaps something more… magical, I suppose than what he had given me. His first instruction to me upon returning to his study was to read a tome he had given me.

"Consider it a simple introduction to magic." He had said.

And so I read. It began rather historically with the early legends about and uses of the Arcanums by the elves and dragons and so on. The tome made a point to contrast Xadians' natural ability for magic with humanity's lack of it save for perhaps through the use of a primal stone.

The tome continued this pattern of the early history of magic for a few more chapters until I reached a section title that had a person's name rather than an event or time period as the title.

It was the name of a of a Moondshadow Elf Mage, carrying a staff emitting a faint light. She was followed by a Sunfire Elf, wielding a rod with a ringed, small, burning sun at its center who was accompanied by a third elf of a species I did not recognize at first. She was a Startouch Elf but unlike the others, she held no staff or weapon of any sort yet she seemed to embody something… beyond what most saw. Perhaps the stars. Perhaps beyond. I turned the page on the new elf and found myself looking into the eyes of the first human mage in the book. 

I did not recognize his face but I remembered his name. His name, that had been told to me in the classroom, in the streets, and echoed in my mind. The first mage of humanity, our first reply to the millennia of magical dominance held by Xadians.

His name? His name was Ziard and he had been the very first true mage of humanity through the use of dark magic. I held him on an even higher pedestal than before just from the first few sentences about him. He was born into a cruel world, his city on the verge of collapse from famine. His people were left to starve and with no one to turn to for help, Ziard took it upon himself to be the salvation his city needed. Along with a staff gifted to him by "the great ones" Ziard used the essence of magical creatures to save his city from starvation.

I read on. My eyes roving the pages even faster as I hurried to learn the rest of the tale. It seemed that the dragon king at the time, Sol Regem, had seen dark magic and was disgusted by it. In a fury that only the king of dragon's could muster, Sol Regem demanded that Ziard give up dark magic or prepare to have his city annihilated. Ziard, understandably did not wish to give up what had saved his people so he attempted to fight the dragon king. 

Needless to say, the fight did not last very long as Ziard was incinerated and his city burned to the ground in an attempt by Sol Regem to cease the practice and destroy the knowledge of dark magic.

Yet it grew and spread across the continent but as Xadians became aware of it and were as disgusted with it as Sol Regem was they too condemned humanity. The end result was the more modern situation. The continent was split in half, the Pentarchy to the west and Xadia to the east. 

The new king of the dragons whom humanity knew as 'Thunder' guarded the Breach that separated humanity and magical peoples though battles and wars began as humans were forced to move to the west. 

After all, most of humanity already lived to the west of the Breach, but those who did not were forced to flee their home of many generations or prepare to face the might of the new dragon king and elven armies. All but a few chose to go peacefully while those who stayed were simply forced to leave forever. 

Border conflicts were difficult to come by between Xadia and humanity as they were and still are separated by the river of lava that flows through the continent, splitting it in half. The river of lava was the last royal act of Sol Regem. 

It's said that he stirred the full power of the sun in his eyes and chest and struck the volcano at the north tip of the continent. From there, the lava flowed wherever it could in old river beds or valleys though a few settlements on both sides were forced to flee, most of them human. 

For humanity's use of magic to protect and provide for ourselves, we were rewarded with lava and loss. It is said that Sol Regem, now blind from his battle with Ziard, abdicated and went to guard the southern end of the border near the wastelands. It is believed that he still guards that path to this very day.

It was after I completed the story that I encountered within myself the question of the consequences of dark magic. Because of it, as a negative, I suppose, humanity was restricted to the western side of the border but then again because of dark magic, hundreds of thousands had been saved. As for the process itself, I personally saw no problem in using certain magical beings for saving or bettering human lives especially things such as Sunray Monarchs or Banthers.

If anything, I believed and still believe that those particular creatures were either needless or dangerous in their natural functions. In my mind, the use of magical creatures essences were either justifiable or didn't need to be justified, especially if it was for the good of humanity.

Most of the rest of the tome was devoted to the basics ideas of dark magic and various notable mages and their roles in history both human and elven. It was fascinating to continue through hundreds of years of names though the name of the one other Startouch Elf in the tome was blurred as was the rest of his page. 

The most recent mage noted in the tome was a human female from Del Bar from only one hundred years ago when she also became the last Del Bar mage after a particularly disastrous fiasco involving the crown princess and lightning. The tome kept vague on the details on that particular debacle for political reasons perhaps. I noted this before moving on. 

After turning yet another page, a flicker of light went across the text I had been reading and I looked up to see that the sun had already gone down.

To my surprise, I had been reading by firelight for a few hours and hadn't notice the transition. High Mage Candor was leaning over a table reading another tome of unknown contents to me and had been like that since I had started reading. 

Feeling a gaze on his back, Candor turned and addressed me.

"Is there something can do for you, apprentice?" He said it kindly, relaxed as it were. He sounded like a different person than the maniacal man that had been at my bedside just yesterday. I shook my head at his question and replied.

"No, sir. I was wanting to ask whether you required me to finish this tome by the end of the night or if you wanted me to wait until tomorrow." He looked at me for a moment, thinking I suppose. Then he chuckled, and when he did, he sounded like a grandfather rather than an insane mage.

"Viren," he said, walking up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder, "I know what you want to do already, I can see it in your eyes." In his eyes, a tinge of madness began to creep back in. 

"In your eyes," he continued, "You want to keep reading, keep learning, keep moving." Despite the slight rise of insanity's touch, his eyes were filled with empathy for what I felt then.

"You have a need to finish this tome and the next." He paused for a moment, he took a deep breath I noticed, letting the madness slip from his gaze. 

"It's what will bring you to towering heights in this castle and world." He held up his tome and held it in front of me. 

"After all, knowledge is what allows us to move forward in this life is it not?" 

I nodded, "It is, sir." Then I hesitated. 

"May I continue on then, sir?" 

He nodded, "You may, Viren. Now if you excuse me, I must retire for the night." He turned and went for a cushion by the window and gestured at a loft by the door.

"You may sleep there if you wish, Viren. You have done well today and I am glad to have you as my apprentice." He nodded his head, acknowledging me.

"I will see you tomorrow, Viren." With that, he laid down by the window and began counting the stars until he drifted off.

I finished my the tome just an hour later just as the hearth began to die down. In the time between then and sleep I began to think. How had Candor talked to me? It felt as how King Armin had talked to Harrow, strong, yet kind. Gruff, yet caring. 

When Candor had talked to me before he had gone to bed, it had felt like what I had imagined being talked to by a true father would be like. 

Though I admit that Candor was perhaps fifteen years too late to have been my real father. Still the notion that I still had a father figure… well… I'd say it comforted me in the times when I felt cold and alone. The many times that I felt that way in those early years.

Many have said that they cannot choose their family, that they can only accept them as they are. They say the only ones you can choose are your friends, that you can find them among the throngs. But then on that day, as I drifted off into sleep? 

I felt as if I had chosen my father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone get the musical reference at the very beginning? Thanks for the reads!


	10. Future and Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren begins his first practice of dark magic and leaves the past behind.

I awoke the next morning to an acrid scent, my head on the tome which I had finished just before drifting off. I twitched my nose as the foul smell continued until I opened my eyes to see Candor's mad yet oddly playful eyes observing me from inches away. I jumped up, startled, and bumped my head on the loft ceiling. 

Candor let out a laugh, "It worked rather well didn't it, Viren?" I was confused, I suppose he was referring to the smell he had made.

"Sir?" I asked, hoping for him to explain. Candor was gazing off into the distance that was the wall with the foul smelling odor still seemingly floating in his hand but was stirred out of it by my words.

"Yes, Viren?" He seemed oblivious to the smell though I could see the noxious, green fumes drifting up to his nostrils.

"What are you working on, sir?" I had hesitated on how best to respectfully ask why he was waking me up by shoving vapors into my nose. Candor seemed pleased by my question and began to explain himself by reaching for a nearby jar hanging from the ceiling.

He pulled a bushel of a rather sickly looking flower from the jar with his right hand and presented it to me, holding it in comparison to the vapors still emitting from his other hand.

"This," he lifted up the flower, "Is a type of flower native to Xadia that has the rather odd property of having an unpleasant odor." He paused for a smile.

"The Xadians have many names for it but in dark magic it is referred to as 'the Odor'." Candor grimaced, looking disappointed.

"I must admit that our name for it is not nearly as entertaining as their names but I suppose whatever mage named this wasn't the creative type." I nodded, 'the Odor' did not sound entertaining at all as a name for an odiferous flower. If anything, it was slightly ominous if not somewhat pretentious especially for what it was.

I realized that Candor had not yet answered my question. 

"But what are you using it for, sir?" Candor, suddenly reminded my original question, came up with a suitable response.

"I was using the flower to test an amplification spell for various ingredients, it amplifies different aspects of different ingredients" Candor looked sheepish for a moment.

"As for this specific test with the flower, I just wanted to have a little… fun with you I suppose." He looked at me cautiously to my surprise. From my perspective, he could do no wrong as my mentor. Anything he did could be justified as a lesson in my mind he needed only to say so. Along with Harrow and perhaps King Armin, Candor was the one of the few people I freely trusted to do no wrong particularly when I first began as his apprentice.

Yet he was careful around me when he spoke and acted, only being distracted from his kindness by the madness that he fell into upon his magicks. It was a bewildering behavior that he had never bothered explain to me and I had only learned of what was truly going on until much later.

His answer left me with no other questions so I merely observed him practicing on different ingredients until he called me over to where he had pulled out another ingredient for testing.

"Viren," He said, beckoning me over to where he was, "I would like you to try the amplification spell on this dandelion." The dandelion he handed to me was multi-colored and seemed to twist in my in my fingers as I held it. 

"This is another Xadian plant, sir?" Candor nodded, "They all are. The ingredients needed to produced magic are all native to Xadia. What we have in these jars?" 

He spun slowly gesturing with his hands at the containers hanging from the ceiling, "This is all from Xadia." He breathed in, thinking. 

"Their land. It is saturated with magic. If only we could…" Wistful madness trickled into his eyes but slowly bled into despair. It was clear that he had such a desire to see Xadia that it was much how lovers seem to long for one another. It was saddening to see my mentor downcast as he was. 

I watched him for a few moments, momentarily forgetting the twisting dandelion in my fingers. Upon remembering, I brought Candor out of his saddened reflection.

"Sir? Would you like me to continue? I don’t know the words for the spell." Candor shook his head side to side and turned back to me.

"Right you are, you'll be practicing on this of course." He gestured to the dandelion in my hand. 

"Do you know the Xadian name for that plant?" 

I shook my head, "No, sir, I don’t know it." 

He laughed out through his nose softly, "I wouldn’t expect you to. The name of this flower is in Draconic." 

He leaned in on the flower and brushed the soft edge of the dandelion's top. 

"Draconic often names things rather literally as we do. Take Katolis Castle for example. It is a castle in or of Katolis, ergo, Katolis Castle. It's the same in Draconic."

He pointed at the many colors of the dandelions bristles. 

"What is the first thing you notice about the dandelion, Viren?" I stopped and studied the dandelion for a moment. The dandelion was covered in many colors unlike native Katolis dandelions. That was what I noticed first then, its many colors. 

"It has many colors, sir." Candor laughed, well more cackled, it seemed that was the answer he had been hoping for. 

"Right you are, Viren. The name of this flower in Draconic is 'Tot Colorem' which translated means 'many colors'. Well done, my boy!" I blushed slightly at the praise, not something I was prone to do often. 

"Thank you, High Mage Candor." 

He waved my formality away, "Please, Viren," he smiled at me, "No need to be so formal, especially in here," He put a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"As I said, just call me Candor." I nodded, I had almost forgotten our conversation from the previous day. We stood in silence for a moment. Perhaps enjoying the quiet.

Candor kept his hand on my shoulder for a few more seconds before once again remembering what we had being doing. He coughed and began his instruction.

"Here we go then, Viren." He straightened his cloak, "The spell for this is rather simple and won't require any ingredients besides the object being amplified with this staff of course." He lifted up his staff in his right hand for emphasis.

He handed me the staff which I held in my right hand. It fit rather well in my hand, even at that age. It was surprisingly smooth and pleasant to handle despite being made entirely of metal. Some of Candor's pouches hung from it, swinging from movement. 

"Now, Viren," I stood up straighter as Candor spoke, "I will tell you the spell but first put your left foot back and crouch just a little." I was unsure what this would do for the spell but I complied.

"What does the crouching do, Candor?" It still felt odd to call him by his name.

Candor smiled and struck a pose before responding, "Dramatic effect!" I chuckled at his display before resuming my slightly crouched position.

"Now Viren," Candor continued, lifting from his stance, "Hold Tot Colorem up and repeat these words." I braced myself to listen as he said the incantation.

"Erutaecr ro tnalp gniht worg!" He put emphasis in each word, his voice rich with power even without the staff. 

"Now try it with the Tot Colorem, Viren." Candor encouraged, "You should be able to pull this off well if you maintain yourself." I nodded, repeating the words in my mind faster and faster until I suddenly struck the floor with the staff out of instinct and shouted the spell.

"Erutaecr ro tnalp gniht worg!" My eyes glowed purple as the spell reached its peak. There was a flash and I heard Candor chuckle.

"That was very well done, Viren. Congratulations." I opened my eyes to see that the Tot Colorem had in fact been amplified in its size. The stem was almost as thick as the staff in my hand. 

Suddenly after the spell had completed, I felt a slight pain that grew in my head that made it hard to stand for a moment before it became too much too handle.

I dropped the Tot Colorem and fell on my knees, the staff falling from my hand, clanging onto the floor. There was… a ringing in my ears that I can still recall today. It made me prostrate on the ground making me hold my head to the ground as I shook against the floor.

I had read about this… in the tome that Candor had given me… It had mentioned side effects of dark magic such as what I was experiencing. My head shook and I felt feeble began gulping in air in an attempt to make it go away. Another convulsion, and I felt Candor by my side. He had a hand on my shoulder and was kneeling next to me.

"You're all right, Viren. It's going to be alright." I gave my best attempt at a smile to Candor but he shook his head. 

"There's no need to try and present yourself to me now, Viren." He turned over his hand and rolled his charred fingertips, remembering.

"This is the price we pay for magic, Viren. It might make you weak now but in the years to come?"

I felt well enough to raise my head towards him to listen.

"It will make you strong." I swallowed the last bit of bile that had been threatening to come up my throat and nodded. The ringing in my head had stopped and I managed to slowly get up to my feet as Candor kept a hold on my shoulder to assist me. 

I smiled up at my mentor as the final feelings of sickness left me and I could stand alone again. Candor gave me an approving nod. 

"Most who cast their first spell in dark magic take days to get over it. Now look at you!" He gestured both hands towards me.

"You've recovered in seconds!" I nodded weakly.

"Thank you, Candor." 

I bent over to pick up the Tot Colorem and staff that had fallen to the floor. As I stooped over to grab them the scroll that Harrow had given me caught my eye. It was still sitting on the table near the loft where I had left it. Just sitting there though, it felt like it was watching me. 

I didn’t take my eyes off it as I picked up the staff and Tot Colorem and when I stood I watched it for a second more before taking my eyes off of it to hand Candor his staff back. Candor took the staff and stem in his hand. He seemed to notice my focus had shifted to the scroll and gave me a moment to think.

My mind was rather preoccupied with the scroll and what it meant I admit even as I felt the magic soaking through me. It was the last link between who I had been and who I was and perhaps who I was going to be. Candor added on to his congrulations.

"You have done well, Viren! Most take longer to handle magic, but you've done it just in this moment!" I nodded and gave a smile that we both knew was fake. 

"Thank you, Candor."

I actually was excited about what I had just down and how natural it had felt inside of me but the scroll and what it meant felt like an anchor in my stomach even as I still felt the spell in my veins. How foreboding it seemed somehow just laying there in silence. 

The room fell silent as I slowly plodded over to the scroll and took it into my hands. It felt coarse as before but hot in my hands. I rolled it in my fingers a few times before stopping where it was sealed. My fingers grazed over the dried wax but I could not bring myself to break it. 

It felt like opening the scroll was a step backwards, that it was given something to my father who had left me alone as I had been. I didn't want to give him anything. I wanted to forget him and how he had hurt me…

Candor once again noticed my change in thought and opened his mouth slowly to speak.

"Often, our deepest losses are sometimes best left in the past." Sensing my hesitation to what he had said Candor left my actions to me without further comment.

I took the scroll in my hand, took one of Candor's fire pouches from his table and walked in front of the silent hearth. I held the scroll in one hand and the pouch in the other and stood there, thinking. Was I to be the next in my family that had left me? Or was I to be my own new beginning? To leave behind the sad memories of countless, lonely days without a father and move forward or remember them?

I crouched in front of the fire and laid the scroll on the logs and stood back up again. I remembered the spell that Candor had used. Dark magic felt as a second language to me. I drew my arm back to throw the pouch into the fire and incanted.

"Worg lliw erif sehsa eseht morf!" The logs burst into an inferno and the scroll was consumed by the flames. Smoke curled up the chute as it turned to ash. I watched until the last of the parchment was gone and turned back to Candor who was now sitting and watching me. He gestured quietly to the flames.

"And so dies the past?" He asked me, his voice light against the fire's crackle. I nodded firmly, the flames illuminating my figure,

"And so it dies."


	11. New Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors from the border arrive at Katolis Castle with reports from the Breach.

A month had passed since I had burned the letter and I had no regrets about it. I had continued in my studies with Candor alternating between him teaching me and me assisting him in his experiments with new spells he had dug from tomes. It was a comforting rhythm we established and that first month was perhaps the most idyllic days of my younger life. Harrow would come by every once in a while so we could talk about our respective experiences and I would walk with him sometimes in the afternoons, deep in conversation over a wide variety of things. Those times were good to me.

It was that day, however, when visitors arrived from the Breach. The royal governor, Marsai, and his two daughters. His wife had died years ago, according to Candor, of medical complications and the governor hadn't remarried since. 

"Never appealed to me, women." Said Candor after telling me the story, "What am I supposed to do? Talk to them for the rest of my life?" I had laughed at this not quite understanding the fascination with them either. Candor had been summoned to a council that had been called involving the arrival of the governor and Candor had suggested I stay by his side to get a look at statesmanship at work. It would be the first time I attended such a meeting though certainly not my last.

I saw Harrow come into the throne with two girls that I didn’t recognize but I assumed they were the governor's daughters by their dress. Harrow had seemed to have acquainted himself with them already as they were laughing when they came in. Harrow notices me mid-laugh across the room and nodded in my direction. I tilted my head towards the governor who was standing near King Armin sitting on his throne with a question in my eyes. He held his hands up and shrugged, mouthing something I couldn't quite make out. 

I turned to Candor to ask when it would begin but he was talking with an advisor I recognized from my first time here. Allant. He of course looked the same as he had before, a graying beard that traced his face from his chin to his ears and hard eyebrows that gave him an intimidating look despite his relatively shorter stature, standing barely taller than I was at the time. He looked up from his conversation with Candor to acknowledged me for a moment. He gestured his hand towards me.

"Tell me, Candor, this is your apprentice correct?" Candor nodded, his whole face brightened about to show off his new student. 

"As a matter of fact, he is, Allant. He's very talented too. He performed his first spell just a month ago and had performed many more since then. I'm rather impressed, actually." Allant stroked one side of his beard.

"Is that so? Well," He shook my hand, "That is rather impressive, Viren. When did you decide to become a mage then?" This I was able to answer to his standards and we talked over these things for a few more minutes before Armin called the council together at the table map of the continent. Figures representing various kingdoms and Xadian forces were scattered across the map though there was a noticeable gathering of those pieces at an area known as the Breach. 

I suppose then I should explain what the Breach is. Xadia and the human kingdoms as I have mentioned are split by a river of lava that splits the continent and is only crossable at the Breach. Both sides knowing this, of course, constructed defense on their side of the Breach. Both ends of it are some of the most well-defended places in the continent second only to perhaps the lair of the Dragon King. 

King Armin pointed at the Breach and looked around at the people gathered around the table. Governor Marsai was leaned over next to him. 

"The governor brings news that there may have been a slip in our defenses at the breach as for the first time in almost forty years." He looked around the table one last time before taking an elven piece and moving it to our side of the border.

"An elf has been spotted on Katolis' side of the border." There were murmurs around the table before Governor Marsai then spoke. 

"We of course have witnesses to this event, a servant boy and," He gestured to one of the girls that had come in with Harrow, "My eldest daughter, Sarai." Sarai merely bowed and stayed silent. Armin put a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. 

"Is the servant boy hear as well?" Marsai nodded and gestured to a boy I had just noticed standing towards the back of the room. He was around my age and height and seemed rather bookish if ever that description fit someone. He had crooked lenses balanced on his nose and a wiry frame that was hunched from long nights of reading by candlelight.

"It's an honor to meet you, your majesty." The boy stuttered the words out as if he had forgotten how to speak for a moment. King Armin smiled warmly back at him. 

"Thank you, young man. What did you see?" The boy swallowed nervously.

"It was dark, and I w-was with Sarai," He bumbled his words nervously, "Well not, with her with her but just-" Marsai snapped.

"Get to the point, boy!" Candor leaned over to whisper in my ear. 

"He was not made governor for his patience." The boy swallowed deeper, readjusted his glasses, and went on. 

"While we were walking towards the governor's house, I saw… a shadow with wings that came out through a window on the left side of the mansion." He looked around, giving his best impression at innocent speculation before mentioning, "I think he may have come out of Lady Sarai's room, my lord." Candor gave a laugh before smothering it in a cough after Marsai stiffened in his direction. 

"Then he flew away sir," He hesitated for a moment, perhaps having trouble believing his own memories. 

"His arms were wings like a bird and he flew back over the border. He carried no weapons that I could tell and I believe he was a Skywing elf, sir, that means-" 

"Enough of that, Endor!" Thundered Marsai at the boy who gave a jump at Marsai's tone. King Armin raised his hand.

"Calm yourself, Marsai, the boy has said what I asked of him and that is enough." He turned to Endor and softened his tone. 

"Did you see anything else, Endor?" Endor shook his head, still a little shaken from Marsai's outburst.

"No, your majesty, that is all I saw that night." Armin nodded.

"Very well, thank you, Endor." The boy only nodded shakily before taking a position somewhere near me. I inclined my head to him in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves and he gave a quick smile in response. I wondered what had happened to him to make him as he was. I shook my head out of my thought as Sarai was called forward at the table for her story.

"Lady Sarai?" King Armin tilted his head toward her, "What did you say that night?" She hesitated just as Endor had, but her hesitation was of a different kind. The ignorant are unsure of what they see, those who know are unsure of what to say. Sarai was the latter. I could see it in her eyes and her stance. She was about to hold something but. What it was I wasn't sure. 

Candor leaned over to me again somehow sensing my observations, "I'm glad to see you're paying attention. There certainly is something different about her right now. But I'm sure you'll find out." Allant next to him was also peering curiously at Sarai but he let the expression slide off his face after a moment. 

"It… was very dark that night." Sarai began, her voice unsure at first.

"I couldn’t see where they came from or…" The table waited with bated breath for her next words. This was where it would change from the servant boy's tale, I was sure. 

"Or if they were even an elf." The table erupted into noise. 

"How would it not be an elf?"

"The boy says he saw it fly away!"

Sarai had a tinge of panic in her eye as holes were poked in her witness until the voices were silenced by Allant who undoubtedly had his own suspicions but kept them hidden for now.

"Let her speak," He lowered his hands to calm the table, "So that we may listen." Silence restored, Sarai continued. 

"They were too far away and hidden away in the shadows, I couldn't be sure by their face that they were an elf." Her face turned resolute and my doubts in her began to crack. 

"No, it must have been a common thief. When I returned, I lost two rings that had been sitting on my nightstand. They had been stolen." The table was silent. The voices had been quieted with no counters. 

An advisor whom I didn’t recognize raised an opinion against her story.

"What of the boy's account that the figure had wings?" Sarai turned her gaze at that man, willful even at her young age. 

"Endor," She began slowly, I felt Endor perk up his ears at her mentioning his name, "Is a poet." I was curious where she was going with this. 

"Because of this," She continued, Endor strained to hear her words, "He tends to exaggerate what he sees and hears to make it like poetry." Endor lost some of his enthusiasm as she went on. 

"He sees a girl look his way and thinks he's in love, he sees a shadowy figure on a roof jump and thinks they fly. I would not trust his words as a full reality." She gave Endor a cold look that I couldn't quite understand before finishing.

"He's not always in touch with reality." The table was silent for a moment before King Armin spoke.

"It would seem… that perhaps Endor was mistaken…" He looked to Endor who was spaced out glumly after Sarai's testimony. 

"Unless," Armin raised an eyebrow to Endor, "You have anything else you have to add?" Endor opened his mouth to say something before glancing at Sarai and then shaking his head. King Armin breathed out.

"Very well, then. It would seem there's perhaps no trouble at all, Marsai." The governor nodded but then spoke.

"Perhaps not yet sir, but the Sunfire Elves are gathering your majesty. We must protect the border! Just give me more soldiers, I-" He was silenced by Armin raising his hand. 

"We will discuss this afterward, Marsai. Now is not the time." The governor nodded.

"As you wish, your majesty. This council is dismissed." I waved to Harrow who was staying behind and left the room with Candor. 

"I'm glad you were paying attention, Viren." Candor said after we were alone, walking down the hallway. 

"Thank you, sir. What do you think they were hiding?" Candor shook his head. 

"I can't be sure. But I want to know what you think, Viren. You're the one with a mind for these things. What did you see?" I thought for a moment. I had seen a liar, a victim, and an untold history. I told Candor as such. But beyond that, I saw something else.

"Governor Marsai wants more troops, right, Candor?" He nodded.

"Marsai has always been seeking a way for his glory. Never understood that man." I nodded. He was what I had noticed the most at the meeting. He was the reason that his daughter and a servant boy reported to the king over a possible elf sighting. He wanted soldiers. When he asked for soldiers thought?

He knew he was asking for war.


	12. Apprentices Old and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Candor reveals a lesson from his own times as an apprentice during a training session.

War, the other fascination of men that I never quite understood until later in my life. Its danger, which seemed to enthrall some, was what kept me away from it for the most part. 

My father had been a soldier, certainly, but in peacetime and nowhere near the border when he served outside of the castle. For that matter, there hadn't been a war for almost a century. The last war was just a result of a trade dispute with Neo-Landian merchants and there were no soldiers alive from that time. The only knowledge we had of real war were their memories. 

War, it seemed, had a nasty habit of needless slaughter that never quite appealed to me. The casualties were often listed as numbers to be counted rather than names to be said. At the time, it had seemed rather callous to me and I had no wish to partake in it. It had left a gnawing feeling within me that so many soldiers had perished for merchant's greed. I voiced these thoughts to Candor during one of our magical exercises in the woods beneath Katolis Castle. He was the one I turned to with these sorts of questions. Harrow wasn’t available enough to be a confidant as Candor was to me.

We had been learning combative spells, ironically, which may have been what brought my thoughts on war to the front of my mind. I had just cut a large gash in a tree with fire and the ferocity of the attack and the damage it left in the tree left me feeling anxious, perhaps, on the spell's intended purpose. So, asked Candor. 

"Is that tree supposed to be a human?" Candor frowned at my question. Not in disappointment, but he did looked mildly perturbed by my question. We had never talked about anything like this before. He stroked his hair before responding. 

"Not always, I suppose," He tilted his head at me, "Why do you ask?" I had a feeling he already knew why.

"It's just…" I pointed to the scar in the tree that had a few embers still glowing. 

"If it's meant to be a person, won't I kill them?" I was, at the time, frightened by the concept of killing someone for both the act and its ramifications. 

"You're right, I suppose. You certainly could kill someone with this if you wanted to." He looked me in the eyes, serious as I had ever seen him. 

"You could even kill me." I jumped back at this, my mind reeling to find a reason as to why I would ever kill Candor. He was someone my emotions saw as my father, even if my mind was not willing to accept it. He changed course as he saw the effect his words had on me.

"Not to say that you would want to, for course. I am your teacher after all." I nodded, repeating those words in my mind until I was certain in them again. My fears assuaged, Candor sat down in the meadow grass and patted the ground beside him. 

"That's enough magic for now, Viren. Have a seat, I'd like to tell you a story." This was new. When we talked, it was often back and forth, thinking through a process or idea. Candor wasn't fond enough of the sound of his own voice to speak alone for the length of a story on most days. 

"There was a bandit group years ago, when I was an apprentice myself. I trust you've heard something like this before?" I nodded. There had been a group of marauder's based just a day away from Katolis Castle who had pillaged most of the towns in their area and took ransoms on any unlucky enough to cross their paths. After months of failed attempts to capture them by local garrisons, the Crown Guard was released under the direction of Candor's master, the previous high mage of Katolis.

"I had been sent with my teacher to help capture these rogues as well as gain experience in the field, outside of Katolis Castle." The story went on as I remembered. The Crown Guard, with the help of the high mage, had tracked down the outlaws to an abandoned garrison, perhaps a millennia old. 

"We had the outlaws surrounded, and at the time," He veered off the main story to direct it to me, "I shared the same doubts that you have now about these spells. But that night I learned." I would guess that he had never had much chance to discuss it with his mentor. I had read that the previous high mage of Katolis had been rather withdrawn, even with those close to him such as her own apprentice. 

I remembered more of the story's details as Candor continued. The ruins had been stormed and bandit's captured saved for one. I realized then that I never had been told what had happened to the one not captured. That was where the story ended, in my knowledge. 

"It happened when we were marching them to a nearby garrison to incarcerate them until they could be moved to a more secure prison." I leaned in as his voice became less audible under the wind. 

"One of the bandits had concealed a knife in his sleeve. He cut himself looses and lunged for me." I suddenly noticed a small scar on his forehead. 

"No one was close enough to stop him and he cut a gash just over my eyes." He traced the white mark over his eyes. 

"I could barely see him but grabbed my nearest item and cast the spell before I realized what it was." He gestured towards the tree that had started our conversation. 

"My assailant was smaller than most, so while most would've been tossed away…" He looked away from me before he finished. 

"For this man, there was nothing left." My throat dried for a moment. Candor hadn't seemed able to kill someone to me. My feelings had wrapped around him subconsciously as if he were my grandfather rather than a dark mage. I had forgotten perhaps, that he even could. 

"My master came over to me, fallen over on the ground and I asked her a question similar to your. I asked her if I was wrong to kill him." He shook his head. 

"I still remember her words. She had said, 'Him or you, Candor. Him or you?'." I thanked him for the story and the lesson and we were silent for most of the way back to the castle until we were almost to the top and I turned to Candor. I had thought about his story for the whole walk back and had thought of a question.

"So, is it alright to kill?" He thought about it for a moment. It seemed he had pondered this question many times before."

"For me, it was in the moment, I was attacked, about to be stabbed and I reacted on instinct. Was I right? I'm not sure. I always go back to what my master told me. I have no other way."

I had hoped for a clear cut answer, something to put me at ease as he had done before, but this instead left me with more questions. What was justified for? Who should decide? Why did it so often come to one or the other? But all these questions led back to the same, single question, that rattled for days in my mind. 

Them, or you?


	13. Update for Any Readers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Current Happenstance on Updates

Hello to those of you reading this now, 

This fic began as all of them do, as a passion project and at the moment, that passion had blown a fuse and I'm writing this update per update. The only reason I'm leaving this is because I know how it feels when a fic just slaps you in the face and ends so this is just saying that I may update this some day or I may not. I'll probably get motivated again when S4 comes out and then we'll see. Until then,   
Temerity Clias


End file.
